Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“I’m so pleased I ran into you today,” she says, sitting down uninvited.
Imogen and I glance at one another.
No, please, take a seat.
Amélie is fully aware that she’s intruding but doesn’t care.
“I receive so many questions about you at every single function I attend, or so it seems, so it only makes sense that we should get to know one another. I can be very useful in social situations. I know everyone. Best of all, I know everyone’s secrets.” Her eyes twinkle with malice. She’s hinting at something.
Does she know that my marriage to Nico was arranged?
No, there is no way… Nico stressed the importance of no one knowing about the arrangement.
Unless he told her after he fucked her, the nasty voice of doubt whispers in my ear.
I quickly push it away.
Nico assured me it was over with her.
Instead, I think about the way he fucked me against the mirrored walls of the elevator the other night, and again this morning as he moaned my name over and over again when he was buried deep inside me.
Amélie might’ve had him in bed, but I’m confident she never got the side of Nico where his sexual creativity meets his emotions.
She smooths down the front of her dress, her jeweled fingers gleaming with diamonds and rubies. “So tell me honestly, what’s it like being the wife of the most sought-after man in New York?”
Imogen looks at me, and I smile, turning my attention solely on Amélie.
“You really want to know?”
“Like my life depends on it.” She smiles, but it’s empty.
I lean forward and whisper, “It’s full of lots and lots of hot sex and dirty talk. I mean, my husband fucks me so hard with that giant cock every morning and every night, I’m surprised I can even walk most days.”
Imogen’s ruby-red lips drop open in a gasp and then spread into a smile. “You dirty little whore, I knew it.”
But Amélie’s eyes flare with something nasty before she gets ahold of her feelings and offers me a big fake smile. “Well, I can attest that he certainly knows how to use it.”
I raise an eyebrow, hating that Nico used to fuck this woman who feels it is quite appropriate to hijack a lunch between two friends simply to flex her I used to fuck your husband muscle in an attempt to intimidate me.
“Ah yes, he did use to fuck you,” I say, not seeing any point in holding back. If the witch wants to flex, I’m going to flex right back. “But he grew tired of it and came looking for me.”
Her jaw visibly tenses, and she looks down her nose at me, her arrogant eyes hard and full of spite. But then a smirk tugs at her bloodred lips in an attempt to rattle me. To make me doubt whether that is true or not.
“You say that with confidence,” she says.
“Because I know it’s true.”
“Because he said so?” She scoffs and leans forward. “You shouldn’t believe everything he tells you. Men lie.”
“So do women.”
“Yes, but he has more to lose than I do.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What are you trying to imply?”
She sighs. “I’m not the enemy. I’m just looking out for you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re angry and resentful because he picked me and not you.”
Beside me, Imogen chokes on her wine.
While Amélie’s mouth tightens.
“You may think you won him,” she says cooly. “But it won’t be long before he moves on to something that requires less effort.”
“Like you, maybe?” I tilt my head.
“We have a bond.”
In your dreams. “No, you don’t.”
“How can you be so sure?” she asks smugly.
I lean forward and whisper, “Because I’m his motherfucking queen.”
Our eyes lock, but I will die of old age before I let her win.
Finally, she stands. “May the better woman win.”
I lean back in my chair like I don’t have a care in the world. “She already has.”
Amélie walks off in a huff, her chin raised but her pride wounded. She failed to rattle my cage as she’d intended.
“Good riddance.” Imogen leans forward. “You are my hero, Bella De Kysa. You just slayed that evil witch and blew her ashes into the wind.”
“Hold that thought,” I say, standing. “I need to use the bathroom real quick. But when I come back, we’re going to get messy drunk on cocktails because after that, I need a stiff drink.”
Imogen holds her hands out to the side. “And what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t support you in messy drinking?”
I leave the table. James tries to follow me, but I stop him.
“It’s okay, I’m just heading to the ladies’ room,” I say, wondering if I’ll ever get used to being shadowed again.
I make my way through the crowded restaurant, taking a left at the massive water fountain and turning down the hallway toward the restrooms.